You're Like a Drop of Blood to a Shark
by TheSilverHunt3r
Summary: He saw a flash of something red in the waves. A shimmer of color that shouldn't have been there. Dazai turned his head briefly to hide his smirk. Kitsune!Dazai x Fem!Siren!Chuuya, can also be seen as platonic. Three-shot.
1. I

Summary: He saw a flash of something red in the waves. A shimmer of color that shouldn't have been there. Dazai turned his head briefly to hide his smirk. Kitsune!Dazai x Fem!Siren!Chuuya. Three-shot.

Warning-a suicide attempt depicted (aka Dazai is in this story).

"This is the only fearless love that I have ever known

Anywhere you go with me feels just like home

To make do with anybody but you

Is a mad, bad Saturday for sure"

-One look, the correspondents

The Devil's Triangle, off the coast of Japan

Dazai's legs kept him steady despite the harsh rocking of the deck beneath him. He wasn't a green pirate by any means; he had long earned his sea legs.

The old ship creaked as waves continuously battered its sides. Water droplets pelted the deck, sloshing down over the wood planks and pouring out under the railing. Despite this, the Black Lizard was a sturdy seacraft, even after being shot at, stolen, and patched up by pirates.

Dazai pulled the flask of whiskey from inside his coat. He had come out here, alone, in the middle of a storm, to drink in peace. An odd action for any sane, normal sailor. But Dazai wasn't normal.

A note followed behind the thunder. It was clear and pure and beautiful beyond anything Dazai had ever heard before. He stopped, transfixed for a second. He screwed the lid of his canteen back on.

He moved towards the railing. His boots splashed in the pool of water. His brown hair that peeked out his tricorn hat was long soaked and clung unpleasantly to his scalp.

Lightning struck the sky, and Dazai heard a few notes of the song. By the time the thunder sounded, he already had his legs over the railing.

He stood on the outside of the railing, scanning the dark sea for the source. Droplets of rain struck his face as the wind blew them directly at his front.

There was a pause in between the lightning and thunder. The song—four pure notes—reached Dazai's ears. He let go of the railing.

His hat was torn off his head by the wind as he fell.

Dazai hit the water. He made no attempt to swim upwards, letting himself be dragged down. The sounds from the storm above went silent, as if surrendering him to the ocean. He forced his eyes open, flickering his gaze around the dark water around him. Light blossomed in between his hands. It was a light blue, the same shade that tipped Dazai's six tails.

He cupped the light in his hands, feeding it power. The light grew larger, revealing the stormy waters around Dazai. It wasn't a large space. Dazai fed the light even more power.

Dazai sank further down into the ocean. He didn't know how to swim.

He needed to see who or what was singing that song. He needed to hear more.

His eyes widened.

He heard the song. It echoed oddly through the water, the effect adding a sort of. . . solemnity to the notes.

Bubbles slowly drifted from his nose to the surface. Dazai was losing air.

Something red was outside of the circle of light, swimming.

'A siren,' Dazai thought, 'Of course.' He had never met one before.

This was a good way to die. A pleasant way to die.

Dazai smiled as the air left his lungs. His light flickered once before it went out. His eyes closed.

The song stopped.

A pair of hands grabbed his face. Something soft was pressed against his lips for a second.

Dazai sucked in a breath of water. He could breathe. His eyes slammed open, ignoring the sting of the salty water.

Two blue eyes were in front of his face. It was the siren. Her hands were warm against his skin.

A different song started. This one was calm and low, a lullaby.

Dazai smiled. He still felt light-headed. He fell asleep under the ocean.

XXX

The next morning, the rising sun glared at Dazai, forcing its way under his eyelids. He groaned and turned his head, prying his salt ridden eyes open.

Dazai was on the beach of an empty island, surrounded only by sand and sky. He sat up, brushing off the sand that stuck to his damp skin. 'Another sunrise, another day of life. Unfortunate.'

A thought flickered across his mind. "How I get here?" he muttered. Last he remembered, he'd been drinking on board the Black Lizard. He must have been washed overboard by the storm and carried by the waves to the island. That was the logical explanation. . . but he didn't believe it.

He touched his lips. For some reason, he had a lingering feeling of discontent.

XXX

Centuries Later

Modern Day

Unknown Coastal Village, Japan

"Kunikida-kun," Dazai sang, knowing it would annoy his partner.

"What, Dazai?" Kunikida snapped. He took another bite of his food.

They were in a booth at the local pub. The place was nice for a small town, with a good alcohol selection.

"What do you think of this case?" Dazai ran a finger around the rim of his glass.

Kunikida pushed up his glasses. "Dead bodies are washing up on shore. Some people are reporting showing up on the beaches nearby and having no idea of how they got there. That's all we know. I refuse to speculate without additional evidence."

Dazai smiled at his partner's frustration. "Kunikida-kun, you're too uptight," he chided, taking a sip of his whiskey. "Any thoughts on who it could be?"

Kunikida's eyes narrowed. "I don't really know youkai. That's your expertise." He was an alchemist. He was far more knowledgeable about chemical composition than the creatures of myth.

Dazai hummed. "Fair enough," he conceded with a sigh.

The pub quieted down all of a sudden.

A redhead woman was on the small stage between the bar and the stairs. She had no microphone, only her voice. But her voice was loud enough to fill the bar and good enough to make even the rowdiest, most drunk of the clientele go silent.

Dazai put his chin on his hand. He admired her figure from the booth.

She ended one song and began another. A hand extended out towards the audience as she began to sing of a tragic love story, someone heartbroken, pleading for their lover to come back.

Dazai felt a memory stir in the back of his head. He felt he should know something. Everytime he was about to grasp it, it slipped from his mind like water through a sieve. The process of trying to remember left nothing behind. He frowned.

XXX

The Agency had only gotten him and Kunikida one room; they had to share. Dazai really wished he did not have to deal with Kunikida's constant snoring—he could swear he was sleeping in a room with a chainsaw and not a person.

Dazai walked downstairs. The first floor of the pub was still lively. He resisted the urge to buy some scotch.

He instead chose to wander the street.

The cliffs had caught his eye. They, and the beaches around them, were where the strange activity seemed to be happening.

The stars were out in full force, twinkling merrily. They weren't drowned out by artificial lights like in Yokohama.

Dazai stood at the edge of the cliff. He stared out over the ocean. He could hear the soft crashing of the waves on the sand and rocks below.

He inhaled deeply, in shock, as the song filled his ears.

'Come,' it said.

Dazai let his feet rest where they were. He tilted his head, trying to heart the song better.

He was able to resist, barely. He would be a poor excuse for a nine-tailed Kitsune if he let himself fall under a musical spell. No, he would happily have fallen over this cliff two years ago. The only thing keeping his shoes on the top was the thought that Odasaku would not have been happy with him dying. Not after all the effort and progress Dazai had made.

Dazai's expression grew mournful. He sighed and turned away from the cliff. At least he knew something inhuman was involved and where to find it. He also had an idea of what was causing the problem: a siren.

XXX

Dazai came back the next night, without saying a word to Kunikida. His partner would complicate things.

There were three things Dazai knew a siren couldn't resist: the pull of the ocean, the call to sing, and their own curiosity.

Dazai went down to the beach directly below the cliffs at sunset. He sat on the still warm sand. Near him was a pool with an open entrance to the sea.

He heard a different song, but there was no doubt as to it being the same singer. The notes urged him to 'Come to the water'.

Dazai sat up straight and began to play. In his hands was a shamisen made of sandalwood. He had been unable to procure a pick and resorted to using his fingernails. His playing tickled one's ears, impeccably high notes mixed with low, creating a blend that was pleasing to the ear. It did not try to fight the song of the siren, instead it enforced it, encouraged it, adding to its power.

He saw a flash of something red in the waves. A shimmer of color that shouldn't have been there.

The singing grew louder.

Dazai turned his head briefly to hide his smirk. He continued to play.

The red eventually grew closer, entering the pool of water.

Dazai uttered a spell. The words were covered by the sound of the shamisen.

The sand near the entrance to the pool shifted, closing up the path.

The singing stopped. It knew it had been lured here and caught.

Dazai smiled. He put down the instrument and waded into the dark water—it was not a shallow pool. A ball of blue light sparked to life in his soft hand.

Blue eyes reflected the light back at him. The siren was still underwater.

Dazai saw red scales and red hair, that stood out against the dark, like a fire underwater. He saw lotus white skin and a black shirt. He reached out and grabbed a pale wrist, trying to pull her to the surface of the water.

The siren tugged him under.

The light had gone out in his surprise, and he lost most of his air in a shocked gasp.

She pulled away, harshly breaking out of his hold on her. Something whipped closely by Dazai's face.

The ball of light formed in his hand again. He saw her tail, red scales reflecting the blue fire, mixing into a violet shade.

He broke the surface of the water and sucked in a breath, just in time to see her escape by jumping over the sand wall dividing the pool from the ocean sea.

He remembered her. But more importantly, Dazai knew who she was now.

However, he knew a fourth thing about normal sirens—they didn't shapeshift.

XXX

The next night was a new moon.

Dazai approached the old bartender. "Where's the woman who was singing the other day?" He underwent the cold scrutiny of the old man's gaze for a long minute.

"The garden out back, if you're lucky," the bartender answered. His hands were heavily scarred and calloused, but still steady.

Dazai smiled and thanked the man.

Dazai didn't have much time to ditch his partner; Kunikida would be back soon. Dazai strolled into a shadowy part of the pub and pulled the shadows towards himself. He slipped into the darkness, emerging at the back of the pub.

The garden path, made of pebbles was lined with small lights. It led to a koi pond.

Dazai clambered onto the low stone wall around the pond. He balanced on it for a moment before sitting down. The stones were old and partially covered in moss. He spread his legs out over the cold stone, careful to not let his dress shoes dangle into the water below.

The woman was perched on the edge of the pool. She had on shorts and a button up. She was soaking her legs, gently moving them through the water and watching the gentle ripples spread through the pond. The pond was full of brightly colored koi that lazily swam around.

It was freshwater, Dazai noted, not salt water. "I'm Dazai," he cheerfully introduced.

"Chuuya." Her voice was melodic, with low, husky undertones. She sounded rather disinterested. She didn't even look at him.

Dazai said in a thoughtful, knowing tone, "You sang wonderfully last night. . . ."

Chuuya tensed at the compliment. She rubbed her left wrist, a lock of red hair fell over her shoulder.

"At the bar," Dazai elaborated. His eyes were glued to her, devouring all of the information he could deduce about her. He couldn't help the slight twitch of his lips at her reaction.

Chuuya forced herself to relax. "Thank you." She glanced at him. Her eyes were a bright blue.

Dazai slipped off the stone wall. His shoes hit the pebbles below with a thunk-clink, as the small rocks shifted under his feet. He smiled at her. "You're welcome." Now that he was certain of who it was, he could act. His smile curled into a smirk as he left.

A/N

Disclaimer: Both Chuuya and Dazai have and are going to do stupid things. The only good advice in this story boils down to try to not die and don't be an inconsiderate jerk.

Beta by quartzses on archive of our own.

-Silver


	2. II

Summary: He saw a flash of something red in the waves. A shimmer of color that shouldn't have been there. Dazai turned his head briefly to hide his smirk. Kitsune!Dazai x Fem!Siren!Chuuya. Three-shot.

Modern Day

Unknown Coastal Town, Japan

Dazai played on the beach. His fingertips had started to go numb from plucking the strings of the shamisen.

The spot of red in the distance refused to grow larger.

Dazai got up. He took off his coat, shoes and socks, laying them on the cold sand. He sat right by the shallows. His toes sunk deep into the wet sand, waves brushing against his ankles.

He rested the bottom of the shamisen on his kneecap and launched into a rendition of Mozart's best songs.

Dazai almost stopped a third of the way through the Turkish March, realizing that the siren had moved closer without him noticing. He peered at her from the corner of his eye. He realized he had been far too absorbed in playing. He finished the Turkish March, absentmindedly measuring the distance between them, which was about ten feet.

The siren slid closer, drawn by the music. She hesitated, then sang low and soft, of sorrow and painful waiting, of despair and useless hope. This time she joined his song, enforcing its might with her voice.

Dazai dropped his koto onto the sand. He leaned forward and dragged her out, pulling her onto the sand in one swift movement. He kept his grasp on her arm even as she writhed, trying to get out of his hold. He needed to talk to her; that would be easier if they did it face to face.

She gave up trying to escape. She would need to create a distraction somehow.

The siren had a wet black shirt covering her torso. Her tail was a breathtaking mix of vermilion and gold.

Dazai's mind buzzed with thoughts about how to handle the interrogation. In his distraction, his illusion faded, revealing his ears and tails. He cast a light spell, making the small orb of foxfire float nearby. "Hello, siren," he lamely said. He really should have thought of a better opening line to get her to cooperate.

"Fox," Chuuya replied, defiance flaring in her eyes. Caught in the claws of a nine tailed kitsune. . . it was not a situation any creature with common sense would want to be in. "What do you want?"

"Why are you luring people?"

"What do you mean?" Chuuya scoffed. "It's what sirens do." Her voice was full of scorn. The fin on her tail dipped back into the salt water, allowing her to keep her form. If she was escaping, it would be through the ocean, not on the land.

"You aren't a normal siren—you don't kill humans," Dazai pointed out with a mockingly innocent look, as if he were a child failing to follow along an adult conversation. "All of the people who died in this town didn't die from drowning. They died from the fall. The ones that survived the fall were helped by you. That's why there's been stories about you. You aren't trying to kill people." He concluded with a sadistic grin. "You can't resist the sea. . . and you're lonely."

Chuuya jerked her face away. She went limp, shrinking into herself.

Dazai sighed. The cruel amusement on his face faded. His hunch was right. . . how unfortunate for him. "My coworkers and I have been hired to find out what's causing the. . . unusual events. But I don't really feel like spilling you being a siren to them."

"Why?" Chuuya asked, suspicion seeped into her tone. She looked up at Dazai.

"Simple. Because you'll owe me." There was more to it than that, but Odasaku and ethics were not a topic Dazai was wanting to discuss. Such as, if Dazai and Kunikida actually arrested Chuuya, she would be killed or turned into a weapon for the government.

Dazai let her go and picked up his shamisen. "Now, do you want to go back to the pub with me or do you want me to play along with you?"

The siren had succumbed to the sea for long enough tonight—she wouldn't need to return until tomorrow.

Chuuya had swam out several feet into the water already. "Either way, I won't be rid of you?" she asked, irritated.

Dazai smiled. "Exactly. Well, at least for a while."

"I'll go back," Chuuya decided. "Give me a minute." She swam down the beach until she disappeared around an outcrop.

Dazai picked up his coat and brushed the damp sand off the bottom of his instrument.

Chuuya clambered over the outcrop. She had on pants now, her human legs having returned. She had a pair of sandals in her hand. Her top half was still soaked.

Dazai offered her his coat. His sugary, fake smile was firmly in place now.

Chuuya declined with a glare and muttered, "No, thanks."

Dazai shrugged, following her up the cliff.

XXX

"Hirotsu-san, a glass of the good pinot noir, please," Chuuya requested as she sat in the bar stool.

Chuuya was still damp. The wind had dried her off some, but not entirely. On the other hand, Dazai had used a minor fire spell to dry his wet pants and recast the illusion on himself.

"Can I have another of the whiskey I had yesterday?" Dazai cheerfully asked. He extended his index finger, lazily pointing to the top shelf behind the bartender. "That one?"

Hirotsu nodded. "Of course," he politely replied, unphased by Dazai's attitude. He set down two glasses in front of them; one was a delicate wine glass, and the other glass was thicker, with a wide pentagon base. Hirotsu grabbed two bottles and filled each with their respective alcohol of choice.

Dazai glanced at Chuuya. "So, what's your favorite food?" he asked.

"What?"

Dazai pouted. "Your favorite food," he repeated. "Mine is crab, by the way."

Chuuya tsked at the mention of crab. She was a siren after all—they were supposed to be guardians of the sea. "Pudding."

Dazai smiled slightly. She was relaxed now; it was a good sign, he noted. "Isn't that more a dessert?"

"You never specified." Chuuya flipped several locks of wet hair over her shoulder. She spread them out with her fingers, trying to help them dry.

"True," Dazai admitted. "Favorite color?"

"Red," Chuuya answered without hesitation.

"Not blue?" Dazai teased.

Chuuya rolled her eyes. "No."

"I like. . ." Dazai thoughtfully looked at the bartop in front of him for a minute, gazing into the wood as if it held all the answers in the world. He glanced at her and shrugged. ". . .I honestly can't decide."

"Not blue?" Chuuya jabbed.

Dazai snorted. "Nope. Maybe. . .tan?"

"Well, I can definitely tell you like tan." Chuuya gave a meaningful look at Dazai's clothes—the man's outfit was largely devoid of any other color, unless one counted his white bandages.

"It was a good friend of mine's favorite color." Dazai mentally cursed. He shouldn't mention things like that.

"Was?"

Dazai's smile was tight. "He died."

"Ah," Chuuya murmured. She had an apologetic expression on her face.

"It's fine." Dazai waved it off, plastering on a smile. He downed half of his whiskey, out of a need to curb his childish impulsiveness—such as the unfortunate urge to spill his life story to her, or say anything of substance. The whiskey was fire in his throat. It woke him up. It made him feel alive.

Chuuya bit her lip for a moment, then ran a hand through her bangs. "Do you have a favorite artist or band?"

Looks like Dazai had moved on from being 'annoying fox' to 'interesting acquaintance'. His smile grew slightly more genuine—he appreciated the conversation change. "I enjoy a lot of different ones."

"Like Mozart," Chuuya mentioned. She gave him a meaningful, grudging look.

"Like Mozart," Dazai wryly agreed. So she had recognized his music choice and remembered it. "You?"

"Not anyone in particular. But if we're talking about classical music, I enjoy Beethoven."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time."

Chuuya rolled her eyes.

Dazai proposed his next thought out of curiosity, "Do you speak any other languages?" It wouldn't hurt to know which languages she would and wouldn't understand. That knowledge would be useful for multiple purposes.

Chuuya ran a finger around the rim of her wine glass. "French," she admitted. "You?"

"French, English, Latin, and Russian," Dazai listed off.

Chuuya blinked. A spark of excitement bloomed in her chest. "Have you read much French literature?"

"Not really." Dazai kept his gaze on her.. "Why?"

"Rimbaud is a very good poet," Chuuya suggested. She chewed on her lip before opening her mouth. She hesitated and revealed, "I started translating some of his work."

An unexpectedly warm smile edged itself onto Dazai's face. That was a pleasant surprise. "Really? I'd love to see them sometime."

Chuuya blushed, not from the wine she had been sipping at. "Sure," she quietly agreed.

Dazai smirked. He decided to throw her a bone by changing the topic. "Ever heard of Six White Venus?"

Chuuya raised her eyebrows, confused. "I don't think so?"

"It's. . .a very good book."

Chuuya looked curious. "What's it like?"

"All of the characters are lifelike. There's a sort of. . . rawness?" Dazai's eyes brightened. He hummed. "I might have my copy with me. I could let you borrow it, if you're interested."

The description wasn't particularly interesting, it was more the way Dazai had said it that caught her attention. He had sounded genuine for the first time she met him. "Sure," she agreed.

Dazai nodded. "I'll look for it then," he promised.

The grandfather clock by the corner of the bar chimed twelve heavy, metallic sounds. It was midnight.

And that was Dazai's cue. He still had work tomorrow.

Dazai drained the last drops of his whiskey from his glass. "I'll see you tomorrow, Chuuya," he sang as he got off the stool.

Chuuya scowled at him. She could do without seeing him ever again.

XXX

Once again, their investigation was fruitless.

'Kunikida is actually getting discouraged,' Dazai noted. He slung an arm around his partner's shoulders. "Kunikida-kun. Stop being so worried. Just relax. You can cause yourself back pain if you're always stressed out. You'd live a lot longer too if you relaxed."

Kunikida asked, "Really?" He started writing the advice down.

"I'm messing with you," Dazai sang.

Kunikida's pen broke. "Dazai," he hissed. He tried to grab Dazai's collar. He would going for Dazai's neck were they not in public, in a room with dozens of people.

Dazai leaned away with a smile, dodging Kunikida's hand. "Calm down, Kunikida-kun," he cheerfully reminded.

The pub went silent.

Chuuya's singing once again filled the room.

Dazai stopped talking, unusual for him.

Kunikida followed his partner's gaze to the singer—-honestly, Dazai was staring rather shamelessly. Kunikida shook his head.

The singing stopped a while later. Chuuya got off the stage and went to the bar.

Kunikida glanced back at Dazai.

But Dazai was gone.

Kunikida checked the bar. And...yes, there Dazai was, chatting up the singer.

Kunikida blinked—no really, he just blinked after about fifteen seconds of keeping an eye on his idiot partner. Now he couldn't find Dazai or the singer.

Kunikida sighed, chalking it up to his partner being an annoying kitsune again.

XXX

The street was pretty abandoned. Most of the townspeople were awake and working, out on the sea fishing.

Kunikida pushed his glasses up. He couldn't help glancing at his partner.

Dazai seemed the most genuinely chipper he had ever been. He was humming a tune under his breath, loud enough for it to be evident, but too faint for Kunikida to really catch any of the notes.

Kunikida was annoyed, but restrained his emotions. He formulated his question carefully. "Dazai, is anything different? Anything happen?"

Dazai smiled. "I had the best sleep I've had in years."

That made sense. Kunikida pried further, "Where were you last night?"

"Sleeping on the beach."

Kunikida shook his head, deciding not to believe Dazai. . . or at least not ask any further.

XXX

Dazai's lower body was submerged in the water. He was brushing her hair. He was good at it, never tugging sharply and hurting her scalp. He kept his strokes long and methodical, using his fingers to undo any knots.

Chuuya was humming, content. She seemed about to fall asleep.

Dazai smiled. "So the myth is true, sirens do enjoy their hair being combed," he commented.

Chuuya splashed him in the face.

Dazai sputtered, spitting the salt water out and ran a hand down his face.

"Don't ruin this."

Dazai chuckled. "Okay, okay."

XXX

Dazai and Kunikida were discussing the case.

Until, Dazai looked over at Chuuya for the twentieth time and Kunikida said, ". . . about Chuuya-san."

Dazai's attentioned snapped back to his partner. "Yes, Kunikida-kun?"

"What are your intentions towards her?" Kunikida's voice was wary and. . . concerned.

Dazai hummed. "I like her," he plainly stated.

Kunikida furrowed his eyebrows.

Dazai grinned unabashedly, making it apparent that his partner would not be getting anything more out of him.

XXX

Dazai sniffed the air. He could smell the reek of an inugami, a dog—it was even a pup at that.

His smile turned predatory as he noticed who the Inugami was talking to. Kitsune and Inugami hated each other.

"I'm surprised you were let out of the den, pup," Dazai murmured in the Inugami's ear as he leaned past the snag the bottle Hirotsu had placed on the counter. He didn't smell one particular human on the Inugami, so the pup did not have a master.

The Inugami bristled. He had smelled the musk of a fox, but hadn't run out of a sort of misplaced pride.

"So, who's your new friend, Chuuya?" Dazai chirped. He settled on the stool opposite of the Inugami.

"Tachihara," the Inugami answered. His eyes were wary.

"A pleasure to meet you," Dazai cooed as he popped the cork of a wine bottle. "Chuuya, care for a drink?" He barely kept the smirk off of his face at the frustrated Inugami's expression.

It wasn't even a fight between the two for who was leading the conversation; it was a slaughter.

XXX

After several days of inconclusive evidence, Kunikida and Dazai reported back to the Agency. They hadn't found anything substantial and the Agency was short on detectives. They were called back to the city and the case of the town's mysterious disappearances were never officially closed or solved.

XXX

Chuuya looked for him. Dazai always showed up at the bar after she sang. He didn't show up? A confusing mess of emotions puddled in her chest.

Hirotsu looked at the woman, a trace of sympathy in his eyes. He pulled something out from behind the counter. It was a book, bound in yellow paper. "Dazai-san left this for you."

Chuuya's knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the counter.

Dazai had left a book, but he had still left without a word.

XXX

The full moon cast beams of light into the dark ocean beneath.

The seawater was stubbornly cold.

A siren with red scales crooned out the feelings of her heart out into the ocean. Her scream made the sea rise and pound viciously against the cliff—it was a scream of loneliness born of hundreds of years without company. Those within hearing range that night found themselves crying as they walked towards the edge of the cliffs, pulled by the charm of a siren lost to sea madness.

A/N

I suggest rereading the first chapter. I put up the draft that did not make sense because of the changes I made to the story while writing it (11/14).

Inugami are 'god dogs'. They have some similar abilities to Kitsune. As for their origins, they are created in a particular way-sometimes purposefully-by starving a dog to death.

-Silver


	3. III

Summary: He saw a flash of something red in the waves. A shimmer of color that shouldn't have been there. Dazai turned his head briefly to hide his smirk. Kitsune!Dazai x Fem!Siren!Chuuya. Three-shot.

Two Years Later

Yokohama, Japan

"The government has requested our assistance with this case. An abnormally high amount of people have been dying from drowning and falling off cliffs. Others have been appearing on the docks or beaches with no idea of how they got there."

Dazai stiffened slightly. He forced himself to relax.

While his co-workers speculated seriously about what was causing this, Dazai only offered up a few ridiculous suggestions.

Dazai knew it was a siren. He just needed to make sure it wasn't her. And just in case it was her, he needed to prepare.

XXX

"Well, hello pup," Dazai greeted.

Tachihara, the Inugami, shifted uneasily. "Dazai-san."

"Bye," Dazai chirped, pushing past him.

Tachihara swallowed nervously. He was glad to have been ignored.

Dazai glanced around the shelves of items. Instead of ringing the bell for customer service, he slipped into the employees-only door.

Mori didn't even turn around. He was writing something on the label of a bottle. "How are you doing, Dazai-kun?"

Dazai let go of his illusion, revealing his ears and nine tails. He set a plate of homemade aburage on the desk; the food was a gift to start the negotiations off well.

Mori glanced at the aburage. He raised an eyebrow. "Well, let me rephrase. What do you need, Dazai-kun?" He let go of his own illusion in response—black fox ears and ten black tails with blackish-purple tips appeared.

Dazai was looking down on Mori, because his mentor still sitting, but he was certainly not doing so in the metaphorical sense. He knew that Mori was the one in control of how this went.

"I need a specialty item," Dazai replied.

Mori turned around, giving his protege his full attention. "Clarify."

"Hmm." Dazai held his chin thoughtfully. "Something to give someone more control of their inhuman side."

"Such as, a vampire resisting blood lust. . .or a siren trying not to succumb to sea madness?"

Dazai twitched. D*mn ten-tailed foxes. D*mn Mori-san and his ability to always know about everything going on in Yokohama. "Yes. Like that." He scowled at Mori's amusement at his reaction.

Mori asked further questions to narrow down the materials needed and made a few off handed remarks that were a bit too close to what Dazai was planning. But that was par for the course when dealing with ten-tailed kitsune, particularly Mori.

Dazai would owe Mori a favor for this, but that would come later down the road.

XXX

The docks were mysterious and foggy on fall nights, made even more creepy by the full moon hanging in the sky. Despite this, Dazai was not freaked out by the eerie setting. He had been to the docks at night far too often for that.

Dazai sat down on the edge of the pier. He had tried his best to pick one without splinters. He rolled up his pant legs and let his feet dangle into the water.

He picked up his shamisen and pick.

He waited.

Her voice was nostalgic to him. It reminded Dazai of fighting storms amid the open sea, of sapphire eyes in the ocean depths. . . .

Dazai interrupted by starting to play Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. The notes strained to be heard over the song and waves, so Dazai muttered a spell to amplify them.

He kept his eyes half-lidded, peeking out from underneath his eyelashes to see where the siren was.

There was a flash of red in the water near his feet. Dazai waited for it to get closer. He would need to fish her out.

He dropped the shamisen and thrust his hand into the water. His fingers closed around a forearm and he pulled upwards.

A wet siren landed on the pier beside him. It was Chuuya.

She slapped him. Her wet fingers collided harshly with his cheek. No longer connected to the sea, her tail finished transforming into legs.

Dazai ignored the hit. He hadn't been expecting anything else when he finished the siren out of the bay. He pulled out the gloves Mori had made. "Got something for you."

Chuuya took the bait. "What?"

"If you have these on, you can resist the call of the sea."

"What?" Chuuya hissed in disbelief. "You're joking."

"Nope." Dazai dropped the gloves beside her. "So, I need that favor you owe me."

"What's the favor?" Chuuya's smile was twisted and bitter; of course Dazai only found her because he needed something.

Dazai smiled. "Come with me." He extended his hand.

XXX

Dazai waited for her to change. He had given her a change of clothes. He hung his coat up to dry.

Chuuya walked out of his bathroom. She crossed her arms. "What am I going to be doing? You still haven't explained what you want for your favor."

"I'll figure out the specifics before the week ends," Dazai assured. He smiled.

Chuuya clicked her tongue. "I'm leaving then."

"Okay," Dazai chirped. "See you soon."

XXX

Chuuya slammed the door to her apartment closed. She angrily made herself a snack. 'What the h*ll have I gotten into?'

She almost wished she had never met him.

Chuuya's phone buzzed. She picked it up from the table.

She groaned.

Unknown number: Hello!

Unknown number: ^u^

Chuuya: How did you get my number?

Chuuya added the number to her contacts, as she was undeniably stuck dealing with him for a while.

Mackerel: ^^

Chuuya: Answer

Mackerel: no

Chuuya: :/

Mackerel: ^^

Chuuya: I will get my revenge for you messaging me at 3 AM

Chuuya: What do you want?

Mackerel: I had a thought

Mackerel: If you want half of an apple, you also don't want half of an apple

Chuuya: ...

Chuuya: Go to sleep

Chuuya: Or I'll mute you

Mackerel: You haven't already?

XXX

Dazai sat on his couch. He had taken a day off to think and prepare.

There was a knock at the door.

Dazai got up, placing the book he had been reading on the coffee table.

"Hello. Miss me?" Dazai joked.

"Never. Here's your clothes." Chuuya shoved the neatly folded outfit against the detective's chest.

Dazai merely smiled. "How nice of you. Want some tea?"

XXX

Chuuya had gotten work at a bar. She sang four or five times a week there.

She usually got a drink at the bar after performing. Unfortunately, this habit of hers was noticeable even to those who weren't regulars.

She focused on her drink, not really paying much attention to the guy trying to talk to her.

Like usual, some random guy was trying to play her. He didn't care about her. He only thought that she was pretty.

Fortunately, someone else saw this.

The guy tried to put an arm around her shoulders. He winced at the tight grip that someone suddenly had on his wrist. "What gives?"

Dazai smiled. "Sorry." He let go of the guy's arm. "But I'm her boyfriend," he falsely claimed. It was the simplest explanation.

Chuuya pasted a smile on her face. "Finally, you're here. I almost considered just leaving."

"Sorry to keep you waiting. The traffic uptown was bad." Dazai dropped onto the other stool beside the siren.

The guy backed off, quickly stumbling through a goodbye before melting into the crowd.

"Thanks for the help." Chuuya let out a groan. "Dealing with guys like that gets really old after a while."

"No problem," Dazai chirped. He tapped his fingers on the bar counter in thought. "Is there any good scotch here?"

About two hours later, Dazai stretched out his stiff back; several cracking noises were heard. "Alright. Come with me? I figured out what your favor is going to be." He put enough money down to cover his drink.

Chuuya narrowed her eyes, but followed.

They went back to Dazai's apartment.

Dazai closed the door. He made them some tea.

Chuuya sat on the couch. She wondered—with no small amount of apprehension—what favor the kitsune would ask for.

Dazai put the teapot and cups on the coffee table. He waited a bit to breach the subject of the favor Chuuya owed him.

"I want you to hold onto this." Dazai put his bolo tie in her hands.

Chuuya immediately recognized the green oval jewel embedded into the bolo tie for what it was: a hoshi no tama. She literally held Dazai's core, his soul in her hands. "I can't." If she broke it by accident, Dazai would die.

Dazai smiled and closed her fingers around his hoshi no tama. "I need you to keep my hoshi no tama safe. You're the only one I trust with this."

Chuuya frowned. "Is there a specific reason you need it to be kept safe right now?"

"You're a sharp one." Dazai's smile widened. "Let's just say. . . yes. So, keep this close, Chuuya. For your favor, I want you to save me."

XXX

The next morning, Chuuya woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing.

She had gotten a text.

Mackerel: Leave now

Mackerel: Go to the Armed Detective Agency

Mackerel was offline.

Chuuya stared at her phone.

'For your favor, I want you to save me.' The favor wasn't just keeping Dazai's hoshi no tama safe. It was literally going to help save him from whatever mess he was in.

Chuuya cursed underneath her breath.

XXX

Chuuya knocked on the door of the Armed Detective Agency. When no one answered, she walked in. She was greeted by everyone in the office reaching for their weapons and getting ready to fight.

Everyone, except one, a man in a brown cap and glasses. His name was Ranpo. He waved a hand dismissively at his coworkers actions. "Dazai sent her to help us. This is part of his plan." Ranpo turned his eyes back to her, "What are you?"

"Siren," Chuuya responded.

Ranpo nodded. The Agency lacked anyone with a connection to water, which was ironic since they lived in a city right on the coast. He hopped off of the desk. "I know where Dazai is. We should probably hurry before he drowns."

"I'm coming with you," Chuuya stated. She stood tall, back perfectly straight. She would not be forced to stay here without causing a bloodbath.

Ranpo grinned. "That's fine with me. Kunikida-kun, get the boat keys."

XXX

The boat engine roared.

Kunikida was at the wheel, steering them further into the bay.

The water went from an azure to ultramarine, darkening as the water beneath them deepened.

Atsushi was using a pair of binoculars Kunikida had made. He only spotted a few pieces of trash and kelp bobbing up and down on the waves.

Ranpo had his glasses on still. He was sitting on the deck with a map spread in front of him. Yosano stood beside him, holding an umbrella to keep herself from burning up in the sun.

Chuuya shaded her eyes with a hand. She squinted at the dot in the distance. She clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Mind if I borrow those for a minute, Atsushi-kun?"

Atsushi handed over the binoculars.

Chuuya adjusted the dials to zoom in. She saw something tan colored. She cursed and tore off her gloves—she put them and the binoculars in Atsushi's hand.

"Chuuya-san?" Atsushi asked.

The woman was already jumping into the water.

"We should help her," Atsushi said. He would have jumped into the water if not for Yosano catching his collar.

"Wait a minute," the healer advised, looking at Ranpo.

"Stop the engine," Ranpo said to Kunikida after grabbing the binoculars from Atsushi. "That's an isonade."

Chuuya hit the water with a splash. She sank below the waves with the ease of an Olympic swimmer. Her tail formed. She took a breath of salty bay water and started swimming for the tan dot she had seen.

It was Dazai's coat, floating on the top of the waves.

Chuuya dived down.

Isonades were giant sharks with barbed tails. Humans who lived through encounters had only seen their tails, and so their size was unrecorded.

Chuuya couldn't help but stare for a moment at the sheer mass of navy blue in front of her eyes. Isonades truly were massive. Her gaze drifted downwards.

Dazai hung limply in the water, falling deeper with each second.

Chuuya caught him. She kept an eye on the isonade as she tried to put some air in Dazai's lungs.

The isonade turned. It had noticed them. The shark opened its mouth, dagger-like teeth bared in a frighteningly large grin.

Chuuya screeched. The ocean reverberated with her voice.

The waves above turned choppy, smacking against the Agency's boat.

The isonade writhed, sensitive to the sounds. It whipped its tail around and furiously swam away.

Chuuya let out a sigh of relief and dragged Dazai to the surface.

The Agency boat started up again as Ranpo had said it was safe to move closer. The engine rumbled as it was steered carefully next to the siren.

Kunikida climbed down the ladder connected to the side of the boat. He pulled Dazai up onto the deck.

Yosano got to work. With Dazai already mostly dead, she didn't have to do much except wait for her unique blessing to work. She had thought of her ability to heal those on the edge of death a curse as often as others called it as a blessing.

Chuuya sunk beneath the waves and kept watch.

The isonade could return. If it did, they needed to get back to land as soon as possible.

Chuuya heard her name called. She stuck her head out of the ocean.

Dazai stood on the ladder. He held out his hand to her. "What you just did counts as passing your exam," he announced with a smirk.

Chuuya narrowed his eyes. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I mean, welcome to the Armed Detective Agency." Dazai fished his soaked coat out of the water. He dried it with a quick muttered spell.

"You never told me about this." Chuuya grabbed his hand.

"I know. That's part of the test," Dazai smugly replied.

Chuuya scowled and pulled him into the ocean.

Dazai sputtered as he kicked his way to the surface. "I'm injured." He shivered at the icy bay water. His coat and the rest of himself was drenched again.

"Not anymore," Chuuya tartly said.

"You just rescued me. Why would you do that?"

"I just remembered how much of a pain you can be."

A/N

Aburage, sliced fried tofu, is supposed to be loved by kitsune. Basically, Dazai is trying to bribe his mentor with Mori's favorite food. Honestly, it's probably some sort of inside joke between them as well.

I snowcloned the apple thing from the reddit /showerthoughts, by user 0l1ven.

The isonade is a shark monster from Japanese folklore.

Unfortunately, this is the end of this story. Cheers to all my readers and commenters.

A special thanks to the person who betaed this story: quartzses.

-Silver


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